


Ash in the Blood

by ana



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Brothers, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Father-Son Relationship, Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Abuse, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:46:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5954140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ana/pseuds/ana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after CVA. Byerly returns home. </p><p>It's inspired by a comment Lois herself made about the relationship between Ges and his youngest brother.</p><p>WARNING: This contains references to sibling sexual abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Byerly's backstory from CVA for those that want a reminder:
> 
> Rish went on, “... got us onto the subject of his younger sister…It seems they were very close when they were teens—By fancied himself quite the brotherly protector. Till their father, as a result of some vile report he had from who-knows-where, accused By of molesting her. And went on believing it, despite the pair of them protesting to the rafters. By says he was more enraged at his father for swallowing the smear than he ever was at the anonymous clown who made it. Which was when he left school and came east to the capital. I’m not sure if you can disinherit your parents, but it seems that break was mutual.”

After two years, Byerly was given the opportunity to return to Barrayar with no explanation. Had it been the emperor or ImpSec that had decided he was no longer required to be embedded with the Arquas? Byerly didn’t know. He hadn’t rested on his laurels. Though the Arquas knew he was a spook it didn’t hinder him (not detrimentally) from ferreting out useful intel. So why now? And why was he wasting his time even thinking about it.   ImpSec never explained their decisions; not unless it was to their advantage, which meant you had to pick apart the detail to find the truth yourself. Being an expert himself in planting lies as truth and vice versa Byerly knew he’d have to bide his time on this answer.

The rumours that he’d fled to escape arrest for collusion with the Arquas, for not so much grand as gargantuan theft, had been flipped to Byerly leaving Barrayar to clear his name. ImpSec gave out a vague statement that Byerly had assisted the authorities in clearing up matters, which couldn’t be disclosed for security reasons, and the previous (fake) warrants for Byerly’s arrest were now expunged. It gave his reputation an added mystery and he enjoyed reading the conspiracy theories about what people thought had really happened.

Before he could catch his breath at that news, he received a written message from his sister a week later (verified as authentic by the ImpSec liaison responsible for screening and reading _all_ his comms):

_“Count Vorrutyer said I could reach you on this code; the old one I had for you doesn’t work. Please come home – to our old house. It’s urgent. I need to talk to you. It has to be in person. No one’s dead or ill.”_

Lily had never pleaded with him before; never asked him for anything – not since that day he’d left home. She’d added that her and her husband were clearing out the old house to sell since Mother was never returning and Father – well he was around somewhere. Father wanted to sell it and Byerly had told Lily no, he didn’t want anything. Burn it all.

Rish’s reaction to the news was a shrug. “Surely it’s not something you need to think about. She’s your sister, of course you’ll go immediately.” 

He should have expected that answer. Family was everything to Rish, to be put before anyone else. The whole family (apart from Tej, he mused) shared that sentiment. It was why Rish was expecting Tej to eventually return to them, with or without Ivan.

He asked Rish if she wanted to go with him; her answer was no.

He had to admit it punched his ego that Rish could so easily let him go, but wasn’t that one of the reasons he was with her? They didn’t need each other but they enjoyed each other. Neither of them were going to become sentimental about their complicated affair. How could you when you both spent part of your time screening for bugs and running surveillance – on each other. It was hardly the most healthy of relationships but then he’d never been attracted to healthy anything. Rish would never put Byerly first and he was fine with that; he admired her for her loyalty to her family. Loyalty he’d never received from his parents when it counted the most. But he had received it from his sister; many years ago he had had someone in his life who had put him first.

_Please come home_

Two weeks later he arrived in his home town.


	2. Chapter 2

Byerly parked the lightflyer at a distance so he could approach by foot. There wasn’t a soul about and his booted steps sounded too loud on the pavement.

It all looked the same and it all looked different.

The area was still secluded; tree lined avenues with large houses set far back behind high black gates where he could see air cars and lightflyers and classic ground cars. The local town wasn’t that far away and he’d heard the main business these days was tourism and writer retreats due to a famous pretentious resident author. There was certainly more activity than when he’d lived here. He turned the corner and stopped.

Even through the gates he could see the front garden; all the flower beds were as well tended as if his father still lived there. He rubbed his lips and blew out a breath, walking slowly to the smaller side gate but pausing, picturing his tall, long limbed father bent over plucking weeds in his green khakis.

Gardening was the only hobby Father had had; the only activity he’d liked. The only _thing_ he liked. He didn’t like people. He didn’t socialise and the only visitors they’d had were Mother’s friends and family. Father rarely invited any of his family over and so birthday and Winterfair celebrations were quite small affairs since Mother’s family was so small. Byerly stepped back and looked up at the side of the house, at a long, white framed window and broken balcony he’d often sit out on and dangle his feet over. A breath of wind touched the air with scents – his stomach turned to ice and a film of sweat dripped down his back.

Home.

He hadn’t been home for over twenty years.

He stared for a long moment at the large front door with the same unvarnished faded wood he’d always remembered; he scraped open the gate an inch and took a step back, licking his dry lips. _What am I doing here?_

The front door opened and there she was – tall, willowy Lily with her large Vorrutyer coloured eyes which always made her look bewildered – her small, heart shaped face had never grown into those eyes. Her sparse black hair ruffled in the wind and she smiled.

“You made it.”

“Yeah.”

What to say? What to say to the sister you left crying on the doorstep when she was just thirteen years old? The sister you rarely kept in touch with. What to say that you could never say in the few messages you sent her?   The silence stretched; he was about to say something sardonic about the weather when a voice piped up:

“Are you my uncle Byerly?”

The question belonged to a child in a bright yellow summer dress and what looked like combat boots; she darted out from the side of Lily to the gate. She was small, bony with light brown almost blond hair falling out of twin swinging plaits. Byerly was struck by her unusual long lidded dark eyes. Nothing Vorrutyer about those. He looked at Lily and she gave him a small tight smile.

“Yes, Byerly, you _are_ her uncle.”

He stepped through the gate. “Looks like I am- oof.” The child hugged his legs with her bony arms.

“My name is Zara. I’m seven and three quarters. How come you don’t know what I look like? I know Mama sent you pictures. Were they old? I’ve grow a whole inch since last year. Are you going to help us clear out the rooms? We’re nearly finished. They’re very messy. I-“

“That’s enough, Zara petal,” a man said in mellow tones as he came up the side path. Byerly did recognise this one from the pictures. Blonde, stocky and Zara’s father Hector. His sister’s husband whom he’d never met. Hector picked Zara up and she hugged him too.

“Papa this is Uncle Byerly, Uncle Byerly this is Papa although you won’t call him that. Will he call you Hector?”

“I hope so.” Hector held out his hand, grinned and Byerly saw where Zara had gotten her eyes. Byerly shook his hand firmly but felt like he’d just escaped from having his own hand crushed.

“Nice to meet you finally and Zara is pleased to meet you too, aren’t you?”

Zara nodded vigorously sending her plaits swinging. “Oh yes. Oh!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Um…did you have a nice journey, Uncle Byerly?” she asked a touch formally and Byerly tried not to laugh.

“Yes, Mademoiselle I did. Thank you.”

“Was that okay, Papa?” Zara whispered and he grinned.

“That was perfect. Now let’s go play in the back. We’ll leave you two to it,” he said more to Lily than to him. She nodded. But they exchanged a kiss before he went down the side of the house. Zara kissed Lily too. A family, Byerly thought. A real one.

“Your daughter looks different - than her picture,” Byerly said defensively closing the distance to the front door.

Lily smiled. “The picture doesn’t talk.”

“Is she always like that?”

Lily gave him a hard look, and he held up his hands. “I’m not used to children. Are they all so affectionate these days?”

“Only the ones who don’t grow up in fear.”

Taken aback by her sombre answer he murmured, “Not a Vorrutyer then.”

“No.”

He stopped in the wide hallway. The walls were the same beige but there were no pictures just shadow memories from where they’d been. God that colour was hideous. Had it been fashionable then? He didn’t recall it being that foul. Mother had filled the hall with pictures. Maybe she’d thought it was ugly too and couldn’t be bothered to paint the walls. The floor was bare of rugs. But still certain smells permeated the walls and it was all too familiar.

“Disconcerting isn’t it?” Lily said. She didn’t sound sympathetic. Did he want her sympathy? No. Did he deserve it? Definitely not. “Do you want to rest before I show you what I have to show you?” Lily asked. “I don’t know whether to advise you to eat since I vomited afterwards.”

He ran a hand through his hair, mortified that he was perspiring. “I’d like to get it over with. Why were you being so cryptic in your message?”

She shook her head as he followed into the kitchen which was – dear God. It was the same hideous faded green. His mother really had had appalling taste.

“I didn’t know who’d be listening,” Lily said. “This is something I couldn’t tell you. I – it’ll make sense when I show you. It’s in the basement.”

He barked a short laugh. “It’s not a dead body is it?”

Lily paused at the door leading to the basement. A pained look crossed her features. “In a manner of speaking it is. Do you remember what I said about Vorrutyers growing up in fear?” She held up a slim hand. “Best to show you.”

The basement was still full of years old household forgotten detritus. Old rugs, damaged furniture, damaged…everything. Someone had placed a temporary light strip up so it glared brightly, giving it all a sharp macabre, morgue like air. The antiseptic smell reminded him what Lily had said about vomit. A thankful rush of air diminished the smell a little and he glanced across at the door which led to the garden; it was ajar and the steps leading up to it had been repaired. He assumed that’s how they’d been disposing of the basement offal.

“I can smell burning,” Byerly said.

“We’re burning some things in the garden,” Lily said, picking her way across to the far end of the basement. Byerly stared down at his expensive grey suit and long coat and feared for their safety. “Most things have been taken away for disposal; the house is practically bare but there were some things I wanted to burn. Well,” she let out a breath and pointed to two crates. “They were buried under a lot of old rugs and we think for a long time. Before I was born. It wasn’t open. We – I opened one. Hector thought we should give them to Papa but I had a bad feeling about it all. About it being here. It was wrong. All wrong.”

“Here.” Byerly pointed to the chair and she sat down hard and put her head down, her breath coming in gulps. He patted her back ineffectually.

“Maybe you should go outside. Do you want me to fetch Hector?”

“No. I’ll stay with you. Just go look. They belonged to Papa’s older brother – Ges,” she said the name in a whisper. “I think they must have been sent here after he died. Go to the one with red book on top. I marked it.”

Inside the crate was a valise full of books, flimsies and disks. The books were curiously, whether fiction or non-fiction, a sadomasochist’s dream collection. But not all. Some books looked out of place – books he’d read himself as a child. Classic boys adventure books. It was that one – the faded red one – that Lily had pointed to. He brushed his hand over a stool and sighed at the dust on his fingers; he wiped them on the crate, picked up more dust and gave up. He sat down and flicked through the book’s pages. Huh. A few pages in he saw the pages had been replaced with writing. It was a diary.

Perhaps it was Lily’s words that had done it but the dread cloaked him and closed him in as he noted the dates on the page Lily had marked with a feather; he saw his father’s name and the past opened up beneath him and dropped him into Vorrutyer hell.

_Papa fired the gardeners. I knew he’d believe me. Mama said nothing as usual. She’s a waste of space like Papa says. Just like Mathias is a waste of space. They’re all a waste of space. I cried just enough to make him believe me, I timed it so Papa wouldn’t think I’m a weakling prole (no more than 12 seconds), and I said it was the gardeners who were fiddling with Mathias. Especially that bastard fucking Boris who thinks he’s better than me. He’s a waste of space too. I showed him! I told Papa that Mathias was scared of them and that he’d told me the truth. That Boris had made him blame me. You should have seen Mathias’s face! Ha Ha!_

_… Papa wouldn’t believe Mathias’s whining and he’s been locked in his room. It’s all over for him now. He knows now he has to come to me. I went to Mathias when waste of space and Papa went to the ball. I know how to get in his room. He can’t lock me out. He still hasn’t learnt._

_… I made him try different things on me today. I made him do things to himself. I did that. I can make him do anything. He’s bleeding so I’ll have to be careful next time. I don’t like how it messed the sheets and Mathias isn’t a good liar. But it was his fault._

_…He does everything I ask now. It’s not the same._

 

They sat in the garden side by side on a clean bench watching Hector hold Zara as they all watched the bonfire.

“How much have you read?” Byerly asked.

“I read bits and pieces of the later ones but there were a lot of sick ramblings and I stopped reading. I don’t need to read anymore.” She shivered and hugged herself.

He was relieved she hadn’t read much more. He’d opened the second crate which only contained a few diaries but enough to confirm that what he’d heard about his uncle had been diluted. He’d closed the crate back up.

“I always hated how strict Papa was with us,” Lily said, staring ahead. “Never letting us stay over at anyone’s house; never letting our cousins stay over here. Going with us _everywhere_ and never staying long. I know it drove Mama crazy too. Remember how they used to argue?”

All they did was argue; that’s all Byerly remembered. Father would sit in his armchair and drink himself into a stupor and you couldn’t go near him. He never laid a hand on them but he had a temper when he drank, and you didn’t want to be at the end of his vicious tirades of how useless everyone was. Not that he ever said that to Lily.

Byerly looked across at the treehouse, at the end of the garden, where they’d often hide. It was still there. Byerly shifted. It looked the same. How could it look the same after all these years? Red and blue because those were the colours Lily had picked. Father had built it for Lily but Byerly had spent more time in it than she had.

“We missed so many things,” Lily continued. “I thought Papa was just being mean but he didn’t trust anyone. Child or adult. I think he was trying to protect us in his own clumsy way. I don’t think he trusted anyone.”

Byerly thought about Richars and how, as children, he and Donna had made sure they never left Lily alone with him.

“He should’ve trusted us,” Byerly muttered.

Lily turned to face him. “Why? How do you learn trust when you’ve had a family like that? A brother like that? He was a monster!”

“You forgive him? You think it wipes the slate clean? Is this your theist faith talking?”

“You don’t know anything about my faith,” she snapped. “My faith is all I had when you left. You got away from here and I never did for years.”

“You act like I had a choice!”

“That’s not why we’re here,” she said hurriedly, looking away and staring at her daughter. “I don’t care about that. This isn’t just about you and me.” She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hands. “It’s messy. I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him for ripping our family apart.”

“Our family was hanging by a thread anyway,” Byerly said.

She scowled. “Not for me. But I understand him better now - I understand _some_ things better,” she amended. “Maybe that’s as far as it can go. I know now why he never named us after anyone in the family. I know that sounds stupid but I’ve always wondered about my name.” She let out a windy sigh and looked over her shoulder. “He must have blocked it out that he’d put those crates there. He would never have left them there for us to find.” She shook her head. “What a final act of cruelty to send those to him.”

But Byerly knew those crates had been somewhere else first and he had to know where.

“Is that all you wanted to show me?”

“Yes.” She stood up, straight and stiff. “Say goodbye to Zara if you can manage it.”

“I’m not going yet,” he said. “There’s a call I need to make from my flyer that’s all. I’m coming back.”

“I’ve heard that before,” she muttered, and walked into the garden to her family. Byerly watched her, remembering when she thought he was the best brother in the world. He walked back to his lightflyer.

He called an agent he used to work with and asked her to check the codes he’d taken off the crates. He needed to know the details. Byerly dealt in details and those numbers told a story. He also needed a drink. Why didn’t he have a drink before he came out to his flyer. His heart was beating too fast. He took some quiet breaths and thought of Rish. No that wasn’t helping. All he could see was Lily’s face and her disappointment.

“I’ve not heard from you in years,” the agent said. She’d killed the visual so he couldn’t see her; he’d done the same after she had verified it was him. “I thought you might be coming back after -“

“I’ve got no time for small talk. Can you retrieve the information or not?”

She sighed. “Anything I do for you I have to report to the boss. I have to record this whole conversation. You alright with that?”

“I don’t give a damn.”

She said nothing and since he couldn’t see her he couldn’t see her working.

“Well?”

“I’m working on it! Wait... Alright this is going to be straightforward but recalling what a pain the ass you are I’ll get this in the right order so be quiet for a moment while I do this. You’re lucky these packing companies keep their archives. This is _old!_ God this was stupidly easy to break into. It’s a commercial packing company and unusually has never changed hands. It-”

“I didn’t ask for the company’s life history. I want the path of those crates. Now do you have it or not?”

He could hear her mutter and then she said, “I’m writing this up to send you as I tell you, with all the dates, but the gist of it is this: Mikhail Vorbrun, a lawyer, sent two crates to Lord Aral Vorkosigan – as he was then – at Vorkosigan House. They were returned to the lawyer the same day, unopened – it doesn’t say who sent them back but there is a message on the receipt. It was scrawled on it. I’m running a scan now to get it clear and I’ll send it you as soon as it is. On the same day the lawyer received them he sent them on to a Mathias Vorrutyer. Sounds like the lawyer had instructions if the goods were refused and –“

“Is the message clear yet?”

“Yes. I just sent it. Byerly…are you alright?”

“Yes. Fine.”

“Is,” her voice dropped, “is Mathias your father?”

“I have to go.” And he cut the com.

The message said: _“Burn it all. Return it to him in hell. Don’t contact me again.”_

Byerly took a long walk before he returned to the house. It had to be Count Aral Vorkosigan – as he was now – who wrote that. Ges (he couldn’t call him uncle) hadn’t used the count’s name in the diaries – only the initial A and some pet names. Did the count know? Did he know what Ges had done to his own brother? What about his uncles and aunt – now all dead. Byerly froze as the house came into view.

A lean, long, elderly man in faded khakis, soil on his hands was bent over the flower beds. He slowly straightened. He had a raggedy salt and pepper beard and his eyes were smaller than Byerly remembered and heavily wrinkled.

“Byerly,” he said in a pleading tone Byerly had never heard in his life.

Byerly stared. “Papa?”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Is this my father? Is this him? The man who betrayed me._

_The boy from Ges’s diary._

‘I’m pleased you could come,’ Mathias said, his words stiff and raw.

_Pleased? How dare you be pleased._

‘Why?’ Byerly asked. ‘Why would you be pleased to see your _polluted_ son? Do you remember those words? They’re your words.’

This wasn’t it.  The pithy speech; the momentous speech he’d planned to deliver to his father if he ever saw him again, the speech to cut his father to the bone but now –  now the right words had fled and his father just _stood_ there. Why wasn’t he shouting? Why did he have to look so fragile, so pathetic – what right did he have to look like that?

Mathias turned away and mumbled, ‘I told your mother to tell you she –‘

‘Yes, I received that message years ago. It didn’t matter then and it doesn’t matter now. Too little too late. I told her that. Do you think it changes what you did? You believed that foul gossip. You’re only sorry because you know who said it, not because you believed me.’

Byerly had been surprised how little he had cared that it had been a fellow classmate and older brother that had spread the lies about him and Lily; it had been a kind of paltry revenge against Byerly for something insignificant.  What did it matter?

‘We were surrounded by slander,’ Byerly continued, ‘and you told us never to believe it. Never to repeat it. Don’t pay attention to it, Byerly. That’s what you said, you and mother. But _you_ chose to pay attention to that piece of filth.’ Byerly remembered to breathe, and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. ‘You were supposed to believe me not them. You were supposed to believe me.’ Byerly shook his head. ‘But if it hadn’t been that it would have been something else.  I see that now. Lily was all you ever cared about.’

Where the hell had all _that_ come from? He wanted to take the words back. Every single one of them. Not because they were lies but because the words were part of him and Byerly didn’t want to give his father anything that was him. Where was his self-control? _What’s happening to me?_

‘Uncle Byerly,’ Zara yelled, charging out and opening the gate, her plaits slapping at her.  ‘Papa said you’ll show me the treehouse. Can you show me now?’

Byerly stared at her, a sudden attack of vertigo altering his vision. ‘I – what?’

‘The _treehouse_ , Uncle Byerly,’ she said, tugging at his arm, and stretching herself in the opposite direction.  ‘ _Before_ we eat. I’ve been waiting _for ages._ Papa said I had to wait ‘til the burning stopped and it’s stopped now so you can take me.’

Father had disappeared into the house and Lily, the coward, was nowhere to be seen. She probably expected him to leave now, they probably all did. Byerly refused to give any of them the satisfaction. Had Lily sent Zara to give his father a reprieve?  She needn’t have bothered; Byerly had run out of words or they had run out of him. Fatigue filled every pore. 

He would go with Zara for a while and then say his goodbyes. In his own damn time.

‘Lead the way,’ he said.

**

The treehouse was smaller inside than he remembered but it was a shock to see the faded poems and drawings he and Lily had scrawled still decorating the walls. It has been cleaned up and the old blue carpet Father had hauled up had gone. Zara wowed at how big it was and said she could see for a million, trillion, billion miles out of the window. She fired questions at him, didn’t wait for answers and finally wound down her spinning to sit down and arrange the toys she’d made Byerly haul up for her; she placed them all in a semi-circle around her. Lily used to do the same thing.

Well practiced in compartmentalising what he wasn’t prepared to examine, Byerly shoved his father’s past and his own to the back of his mind while staying in the present, and watched Zara play. She made him hold the lightflyer at some point which was all he could muster.

“You’re not saying anything, Uncle Byerly,” she said after a long while. “Are you thinking? You look like you’re thinking a lot or that you’re sad? Sometimes people who look like they’re thinking a lot are being sad.”

After a pause Byerly said, “What interesting observations. Did you learn how to do that in school?”

She frowned, hugging her ugly toy bear.  “Are you being sarcastic? Mama told Papa that you were sarcastic a lot when you little.”

“Did she?” Byerly asked. “No, I was being facetious but they do have similarities.”

Zara put her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. She leaned forward. “Is that a swear word?” she whispered. “It sounds like a swear. I won’t tell anyone you said it.”

Amused, Byerly leaned forward too. “A swear? You mean like saying horseshit?”

Zara giggled.

“No,” said Byerly. “Facetious is not a swear.”

Before he could educate her further on definitions of facetiousness there was a rapid footfall on the ladder and Lily’s voice.

“Byerly come down,” she urged. “It’s Papa – he – he found them – the crates. Zara are you up there? Byerly? For God’s sake answer me. Come down.”

It was a strange thing, watching Mathias hauling up the crate up the basement steps into the garden. The muted version of the father he had just met was now transformed; his hair and beard now ruffled, and clothes covered in dirt smears. Even from where they stood Byerly could feel the slick waves of shock and terror emanating from him.

“No, don’t,” Lily called as Zara sped towards Mathias.

Lily had re-sealed the crates but not very well; this one had tipped and spilt some of its contents onto the lawn.

“I can help, Granda.”

“Don’t touch it!” Mathias boomed at Zara; she jumped in her mid-run - a soft whimper escaping from her. “Don’t ever touch this, Zara. Go away.”

“It’s alright,” Hector said. He’d followed Mathias up the steps and scooped up his daughter. “It’s alright,” he repeated calmly. “Granda didn’t meant to shout at you; he’s upset but not at you.”

 “He shout-shouteded at me,” she muffled into his shoulder.

“I know. He didn’t mean it,” Hector repeated softly.

Zara didn’t respond, for once all her curious questions sucked up into sobs.

“She cannot touch these,” Mathias said, mouth contorted in disgust and something else – shame? Guilt? “It will get in her skin. Do you understand? It’s polluted. All…dirt.”

 _Polluted._ There it was again. One of the numerous barbs thrown at Byerly when he'd been accused of abusing Lily.

 _Father didn’t believe me…and his father didn’t believe him._  

It was an insight Byerly could have done without. He turned his back on his father and stared at the treehouse instead.

  _I don’t owe him anything_. _Fuck this. Damn this. I should have stayed in Vorbarr Sultana._

He turned at the loud thwack. Mathias threw the books back into the crate, wiping his palms on his clothes and recoiling, staring at shaking hands.

“Don’t touch it,” he said suddenly. “Don’t come here. Get in your skin.” He pointed erratically around the crate, and disappeared back down the steps into the basement. “Don’t follow – have to – .“ His words disappearing too as he returned to the basement.

“What do we do?” Lily asked Byerly, tears in her wide eyes.  “He’s acting like it’s the first time he’s seen them.”

“Maybe it is,” Hector said, walking over as he tried to soothe Zara. “I mean perhaps he never looked inside until now.”

“Should we go after him?” Lily asked.

Hector looked to Byerly who returned the stare, refusing to suggest anything.

“No, leave him,” Hector said. “It’s done now – we should leave him and wait. I’m going to take Zara inside for a while.” He planted a kiss on his wife’s cheek. Lily gripped his hand and kissed Zara before they left.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Lily challenged Byerly in a whisper.

“Ah yes, here he is with the other one,” Byerly said, refusing to moderate his voice like Lily but his words were too jagged. Everything had become too fragile, as if one wrong sound could do irreparable damage. Why should he care? Hadn’t the damage already been done?

Mathias was struggling now to push the crates to where the old ashes were. 

“His hands are bleeding,” Lily said.

The crate was covered in rusty hand prints of blood.  Lily was roared away when she tried to go to him. She threw Byerly a pleading look mingled with fury. Byerly sighed and stepping forward asked harshly,

“Where do you want them?”

“Don’t touch them,” Mathias said.

Byerly was genuinely surprised. “It’s me. Byerly. Your tainted, polluted son. Remember? Whatever it is, is already in my skin.”

Mathias shook his head and staggered Byerly with the pained look in his watery eyes. “No. It was never in your blood.  I never should have said that. I never should have – I don’t know - you don’t know what’s in here – you can’t know. Leave this to me.”

“I know they belong to your brother,” Byerly said.

Terror, raw naked terror washed over Mathias’s chalk white face. “Have you looked at these?” he asked in a rasping whisper.

_It will cut him to the bone but it’s the truth about him, about Ges. I could smash through all this with a yes. Yes, I know your secret.  Yes I know what was done to you. We all know the shameful family secret._

Byerly took a long look at his father's face and sighed. “No,” Byerly lied. Relief replaced the terror in seconds on Mathias’s features.  “I’ve never seen these things before but I’ve heard about his reputation – when he was in service.”  Not completely a lie.

Lily moved beside him and nodded. “I never looked inside either, Papa. I was going to ask you to take a look if you needed – wanted them,” Lily’s voice shook, not just from her lies Byerly guessed.  “I saw Uncle Ges’s name though and-“

“Don’t say his name, Lily. Don’t talk about him. _Vorrutyer,”_ he said in disgust _,_ “name never did anyone any good. Most of them polluted, _not_ like you, Byerly. I should never have said – all those words.   Too little too late. You are right. Too little too late. I don’t deserve forgiveness but I am sorry I was – I am sorry you both didn’t have someone better – better than me.”

There was begging and pleading in those words. How many times had Byerly thought of this? Father’s apologies, regret, sorrow, and having the power to refuse him, an opportunity to break his father completely, but now seeing it, Byerly wanted to be a million wormholes away.  It wasn’t supposed to feel like this but here he was, stupidly needing to hear it and letting it play over and over in his head:

_It was never in your blood.  I never should have said that._

“Why didn’t you believe him?” Lily asked.  “Believe us?”

Mathias met Byerly’s eyes. “I don’t know. I know you think I did not care about you but I did – I do. Part of it is my failure that…I never understood you, Byerly.” He sounded both baffled and shamed by this admission. “I could never understand you, not like your mother did.”

_You never tried, Papa so I stopped trying too._

“I know that is not good enough but I don’t have any other answer. I didn’t understand you enough to see the truth of so many things. I don’t know why I – I don’t know the answer.”

But didn’t Byerly already know the answer? Didn’t Lily? They both glanced at the crates and then at each other. Lily’s eyes were pleading. She knew what he was thinking

  _I could make you face this, Papa. Get it all out in the open, like a Betan._

Lily was shaking her head.  The full contents would crush his father and knowing his children knew would pulverise him. Others probably wouldn't understand the silence that was needed but they knew their father well enough to know it. Mathias wasn't ready for this - not right now, who knew if he ever would be, and it was as if something shifted, whether in Byerly's head or heart such as it was, but something was…different.

“That’s answer enough, Papa,” Lily said.

“Yes,” was all Byerly could muster and turned away briefly from the naked gratitude on his father’s face.

Mathias looked down at the crates. “The ashes won’t touch you,” his voice had become a whisper. “Not in your blood and I will not let it get there. Go away while I burn it now.”

“I’ll bring you the lighters,” Hector said making Lily jump but Byerly had spotted him; he’d been watching, waiting.  “Zara’s asleep inside. She’ll come out if she wakes.”

Because Hector didn’t have the Vorrutyer blood, in Mathias’s logic, it was permissible for Hector to help, as long as he wore gloves. They placed all the items in one of the huge cylinders they used to burn the smaller items. The crates were smashed and followed the books into the tube. Mathias swept the ground with his hands making sure nothing was left and Hector helped by using the rake. Mathias insisted they burn the rake too and they all watched in silence as the items burned.

“Papa!” Lily shrieked. “What are you doing?”

Mathias continued to strip off his clothes in the fading sunlight. He wiped his hands on the garments and placed them all in the tube currently burning Ges’s works. Then he walked over to bring the hose pipe to where he stood behind the waist-high tube. He peeled off his underwear, placed it inside the tube and turned on the water; awkwardly washing himself.

“For God’s sake, Papa there’s a shower inside!” Lily said.

“I am not going inside with this on me,” he said as if it was a reasonable answer. “The house is clean. Turn your back, Lily, I will move over there.” He indicated to the small alcove in the outside wall.

“What difference will that make? What about the neighbours? Do you think they’re all going to turn their backs?” She threw up her hands. “I’ll get some clothes”

Hector and Lily returned to place a robe, towels and what looked like Hector’s clothes on the bench. Hector handed Mathias some cleanser and he and Lily disappeared back into the house. Mathias was having a hard time scrubbing himself and washing at the same time; when he shivered, Byerly walked over and set the hose to warmer water, spraying the water over his father in silence.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

They’d all – except Zara who was still asleep – picked at the greasy take-out food, but the comfortable quiet was becoming pregnant with impending _serious_ conversation; not something Byerly wanted right now. For once he didn’t know what he wanted. So Byerly left the kitchen, unsure of where he was going and ended up back on the bench in the back garden. 

“Here,” Hector said.

Byerly took the glass of red wine handed to him. He took a sniff and raised an eyebrow.

“From your family’s collection,” Hector explained. “Mathias never emptied the wine cellar either. We’ve packed them all but this bottle – they all belong to you and Lily.”

Byerly took a sip. “It was an adequate collection from what I can recall; my mother was terrible at everything but she had a modicum of talent for wine collecting, but I don’t want them.”

“There’s a very good bed and breakfast around the corner if–”

“I won’t be staying,” Byerly said, looking at the treehouse lit up by the full moons. “I’ll be flying back soon. Hope this drama hasn’t put you off our Lily. If it has, I would of course have to do the brotherly thing and kill you in some way for being such a spineless fellow.”

“I’d expect nothing less…from a Vorrutyer,” he said, and Byerly nearly choked on his wine. “And nothing could me off ‘our Lily’. I could tell you about the dramas in my family but I wouldn’t want to make you envious,” Hector deadpanned and Byerly laughed.

“You’re a good sort, Hector. No idea what our family have done to deserve you but I salute you,” he said toasting him. “Was it you that repainted the treehouse?”

Hector sat down next to him. “No, your father did it. He doesn’t live far and he always comes to tend the garden. He painted the treehouse in case the new owners have children.”

“He should’ve painted over mine and Lily’s scrawls.”

“Lily said the same but from what I gather he likes to go up there and read them.”

Which struck Byerly as an incredibly lonely and depressing thing to do. “You and Lily have seen him quite frequently, haven’t you?” Byerly asked.

A lot more than she damn well let on.

“I thought she’d told you.”

“But when could I have, By?” Lily asked harshly, coming up behind them. “You never share your life with me and you’ll be gone soon.”

Byerly stood to face his sister an her simmering fury.  It was about time he put a stop to this. “And you have stopped speaking your true mind, Lily dearest. Let’s lay this out in the open. I never came back for you when I said I would. I couldn’t keep that promise and you detest me for it - I have received that message loud and clear, so what is the point of me keeping in touch?”

“You’re her brother,” Mathias said, following Lily. “You should keep in touch.”

Mathias looked cleaner and more alert. The change was quite startling. Hector’s clothes were loose on him but the dark colours made him look younger for some reason or perhaps lighter. Yes, he looked more at ease.

“Lily, you know your brother couldn’t have taken a child to live with him. He was a child himself –“

“I was not a child,” Byerly protested.

“And the slander would have spread to Vorbarr Sultana and made your lives worse,” Mathias stated. “That is my fault.”

Byerly nodded and waved a hand. “Yes and no. I have a reputation now that is nothing to do with you. I am not so short sighted that I blame all my choices on you.”

 _I used to, far too often._ Probably still will, he admitted to himself.

Byerly turned to Lily. “There are events in my life I can’t explain to you, but you’ll hear things -“

“I don’t care about that!” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “That’s something _you_ never understood. Treating me like glass as if all the things I’ve heard about you will break me – do you think I _haven’t_ heard the gossip about you? Do you think after the lies that tore this family apart I take any rumours seriously? You’ve been exonerated recently for something that I never believed true in the first place, but you make it harder. I understand why you couldn’t take me with you, but that was years ago; you never tell me anything about your life _now_. I am not asking you to lose your privacy or bare your soul you stupid idiot. I just wanted something back; my real brother not this persona of fake politeness you always give me.”

And she blew out a long, windy breath. Byerly wagered she’d wanted to get all that off her chest for a long time.

“I resent that, Lily,” Byerly said, after a pause. “I’m _genuinely_ polite.”

Lily let out a short laugh. “Oh is that all you resent?” she asked, a gleam in her eye. “So you admit to what I said about you being an idiot?”

Before Byerly could reply Mathias said, “Your cousin came to speak on your behalf. Donna.” Mathias sat down beside Hector – who was looking amused at them all. “I told her I did not need to hear you defended. Like Lily I have learnt my lesson.” Mathias frowned. “But Donna is Dono now but you must know that?”

Byerly nodded, recalling all _that_ episode in a flash. “Oh yes. I know.”  

“You are close with the count?” Mathias asked.

“In a manner of speaking.” _Maybe not for long after I get a hold of him._

Mathias shook his head. “That family,” he murmured. “Getting a penis,” he said in wonder. “Only a Vorrutyer.”

Byerly choked down a laugh.

“Dono is one of the good ones, Papa,” Lily said. “For a Vorrutyer and as a Count, he has done many good things for the district, hasn’t he? You said so, and you said you admired his loyalty to Byerly.”

Byerly would be having serious words with his interfering cousin. Just what had Dono said to Father and Lily?

“Yes, I suppose,” Mathias said, wrinkles forming on his forehead as he frowned. “She is not like her – _he_ is not like all her blood.”

“Neither are you, Papa,” Lily insisted, she knelt down and gripped his hand. “And neither am I and neither is Byerly so there is a lot more good there than you thought. A lot more.”

Mathias looked down at Lily’s hand. “This has to stop, Papa. I can’t speak for Byerly but I believe your sorrys and your sorrow, so I forgive you because I know there is more to you than what happened - to you, to us all, and I need to move away from it and you do too.”

 _There is more to you than what happened_.  Wasn’t that the point? Byerly thought. The point of where they could all stop looking back and stop getting stuck?  

There is more to _all of us_ than what happened.

Mathias rubbed his face with his other hand, muttered something and then said, “What I did-“

“Was wrong, but it’s over,” Byerly said abruptly. Why rehash all the misery? “I don’t know exactly where in this I stand except I can move forward too and see how this pans out. I’m not promising anything more than that,” Byerly added hurriedly, picturing Winterfair invitations and God knows what else.

Lily rose, kissed Byerly’s cheek and whispered a thank you.

“That is more than I,” Mathias stumbled over his words, “that is more -”

“That’s that then,” Byerly said, needing to stem the flow of further self-recrimination. “But, Papa, I do need to ask you to do something, if you want to see me again.”

Mathias met his son’s eyes. Byerly lightly touched his father’s beard with the tips of his fingers. “You need to rethink this or have it trimmed by someone other than yourself. It’s quite disturbing to look at - there could be birds nesting in there.”

Lily and Hector laughed, and Mathias looked like he was struggling for something to say but as Byerly moved his hand away Mathias grabbed it like it was an anchor.  “You are still a very cheeky boy.”

Byerly allowed his slim hand to be squeezed hard by Mathias’s warm, broad one and Byerly’s chest felt that squeeze too.

“It’s time I was going,” Byerly managed.  

Mathias nodded and let go of his son’s hand. “I hope to see you soon,” he said, stood and ran a hand lightly over Byerly’s shoulder before returning the house.

Lily unexpectedly didn’t nag him for leaving, but walked with him to his lightflyer.  Byerly gave her all his contact information including who to contact if all those failed and Lily gave him a sudden, crushing hug. 

“You came back,” she whispered, as if it was only now she truly believed it. “My brother came back.”

“I will keep in touch,” he promised. “We’ll see each other again soon.”

Lily smiled, those Vorrutyer eyes shining with tears. “Yes, I know you will. This time, I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I've been toying with for too long due to me getting distracted with other fics which turn into books (I DON'T KNOW WHY THAT HAPPENS) Anyway as promised this one isn't more than four chapters.
> 
> Thanks to a_shepherd and Zoya1416 for beta reads.


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